


Batting Practice

by Amuly



Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-08
Updated: 2009-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-03 22:58:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Utivich knows nothing about baseball, and Donny feels the need to explain it to him on April 20th (see, told you sox nerdiness going on here)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Batting Practice

It had been a long, rough day. Two separate skirmishes: thirty-six more scalps for Aldo, and one injury on the side of the Basterds, in the form of a bullet in Ulmer’s arm. After Ulmer had been bandaged up and tended to, the boys made camp, trying to blow off some steam and calm down after the adrenaline-filled day.

Most days Donny would relax through use of Utivich; more specifically, the use of Utivich’s tongue, and mouth, and ass, and hands. However, today was a special day, according to Donny. “Today is April 20th!” Donny proclaimed to Utivich, waving his arms around dramatically.

Utivich shrugged. “Sorry Donny, I can’t think of anything that happened today.”

Donny sighed and sat next to Utivich around the fire. “Alright, I’ll give you a hint. It was April 20th, 1912.”

Utivich squinted at the fire and thought. “Didn’t the Titanic sink then?”

Donny swore. “Fuck, damnit Utivich. No, that happened on the 14th, Smitty. Come on, don’t you know youah dates?”

Utivich rubbed the back of his neck. “Personally Donny, I’m pretty amazed you know the exact date the Titanic sank.”

Donny smacked the back of Utivich’s head. “Eh, shut up you face. I know because it happened so close to this _particularly_ significant event.”

Wicki wandered by at that point, munching on some nuts. “I guess something with the baseball.”

Donny raised his hands up in gratitude. “Now you’re thinking! Thank you Wicki!”

Wicki nodded, and kept walking to sit over with Stiglitz. Those two were always muttering something in that ugly-ass kraut language. Donny turned his attention back to Utivich. “Alright, so as the kind Wicki guessed, it has something to do with baseball. Can you guess which team?”

Utivich blushed. He probably should have guessed that, but now that he knew where this was going, “The Sox, right?”

“Hells bells yeah, the Sox. Alright, since you’ve been such a good sport, I’ll tell you. Today is the day that Fenway Pahk opened up. And the Sox won, 7-6.”

Utivich frowned. “That’s not a lot of points.”

Donny grimaced. It was embarrassing to hear someone talk about baseball so ignorantly. “Fuck Smitty, damn. No, it’s a normal amount, and it’s ‘runs’, not ‘points’.” Donny blinked in sudden realization. “Holy fuck!” Donny jumped up and stared down at Utivich. “Have you evah played baseball?”

Utivich shook his head. “No, I mean, don’t you need a field?”

Donny nearly lost his shit. How could someone have never played baseball? That’s pretty much all Donny did as a kid: come home from school, round up the guys, and play stick ball in the street until it grew dark, or one of them smashed a window or something. Donny paced, Utivich looking on worriedly. “We gotta fix this Uti, no way am I fucking you again until you’ve played a honest-to-God game of baseball. “

Utivich blushed and ducked his head down, looking around. “Damnit Donny, keep your voice down.”

Donny wasn’t even paying attention. “Heah, get ovah heah. We’re gonna have batting practice.” Donny grabbed Utivich’s arm and hauled him up. “Heah, pick up some rocks and pinecones or whatevah.” Donny grabbed his bat up off the ground and started stalking around, looking for something he could use for baseballs.

After a few minutes of scouring, Donny and Utivich had a pile of pinecones and rocks. “Alright, so, I’m gonna show yous how it’s done. Watch.” Donny tossed a pinecone in the air, gripped his bat and swung. The light pinecone didn’t make too satisfying a sound, more like a soft tap, but it flew forward a few yards. Donny looked over at Utivich. “Okay? It’s that easy. So heah, I’ll toss some pinecones at you, and you swing.”

Donny handed his bat over to Utivich, who held it gingerly. “Where, um, how do I stand?”

Donny sighed in frustration. “Okay, youah a lefty, right?” Utivich nodded. “Heah, lemme show you.” Donny stalked over to Utivich and stood behind him. “Alright, youah right shoulder is going to be facing me,” Donny gripped Utivich’s shoulders and turned him so he was facing the right direction. “Alright, now grip the bat in both hands,” Donny wrapped his arms around Utivich and placed his hands over his. “Theah. Now put the bat ovah youah shoulder, back elbow up.”

Donny adjusted Utivich, then stepped back to observe his handiwork. “Your stance is too narrow, widen it up,” Donny stepped forward and nudged Utivich’s feet apart with his feet. “There.”

Donny walked around Utivich and picked up a pinecone. “Alright, now I’m just gonna lob this atchya, so just swing the bat and try to hit it.” Donny tossed the pinecone softly underhand at Utivich. Utivich swung the bat down, completely missing the pinecone and hitting the ground. “What the fuck you doing, Smitty? Trying to chop wood? Fuck, okay.”

Donny trudged back over. He pressed his back to Utivich’s and wrapped his arms around, gripping the bat with Utivich. “Okay, look. You have the bat on youah shouldah, and then you swing straight, maybe with a little bit of an upswing.” Donny swung the bat with Utivich, leading him through the motion a few times.

“Okay, so just do that.” Donny stepped away and watched Utivich swing a few times. “Alright, lemme pitch one to you.” Donny lobbed another pinecone at Utivich. Utivich swung clumsily, but connected with the pinecone. Donny was all smiles. “Theah you go! C’mere.” Donny jogged over and captured Utivich in a kiss. “A bit more practice, and the Basterds’ll be ready to staht up a regulah team.”

Utivich smiled and shook his head. “I want to see you hit.”

Donny laughed. “Aw come on Uti, you see my swing all the time. How do you think I got so good a smashing kraut heads?”

Utivich handed Donny the bat and picked up a rock. “Come on Donny, I want to pitch.”

Donny laughed. “Alright, but the only time you get to _pitch_ ,” Donny nudged Utivich and leered, “is in this situation.”

Utivich rolled his eyes. “Sure Donny. Like you don’t love it when I fuck you senseless.”

Donny walked over to his improvised batter’s box and pointed his bat at Utivich. “Hey, you watch youah mouth, or I’m gonna hafta beam one of these rocks straight through that smaht little skull of youahs.”

Utivich smiled. “You ready?”

Donny stuck out his arms, somehow managing to swagger without walking. “You joshing? I’m a natural at this. Just toss it ovah heah, and I’ll hit it straight outta the pahk.” Donny started laughing. “Wait, wait, watch this.”

Donny backed up from the batter’s box, then walked into it, swaggering. He looked around at the pretend stadium, then pointed his bat out to left field. He cracked himself up sometimes. He started laughing, then looked at Utivich. “Aw fuck Smitty, you don’t know what I’m doing, do you?”

Utivich shrugged. “Can I just pitch the ball Donny?”

Donny shook his head. “Alright, you pitch, but from now on, youah education every day on march is gonna be about baseball.” Donny hefted his bat off his shoulder, waggling it in little circles. Utivich’s expression was deadly serious as he considered his throw.

In a fluid motion, Utivich wound up and threw the pitch. _Crack_. Donny made perfect contact (of course), and the rock sailed out over Utivich’s head. They both turned to watch it. A few seconds later, the two heard a loud “Verdammen!”

“Oh shit, Donny. I think you just cracked Stiglitz on the head.”

Donny stood stock-still for a moment, then took off running. He looked over his shoulder once. “Damnit Utivich, this is youah first lesson in baseball: you always run the second you smack something!”

Utivich looked back toward Stiglitz and laughed, turning to chase down Donny.  
**

Wicki was carefully pouring some whiskey onto the shallow cut on Stiglitz’s head. /Those fucking Americans./

Wicki nodded. After a quick examination of the cut, Wicki took a bandage and carefully taped it over the cut. /There, that should take care of it./

Stiglitz pulled out a cigarette and lit it. The initial crackling and he sucked hard on it seemed to calm him. /One day I’m going to crack Donowitz upside the head with his own bat./

Wicki shrugged. /At least if they’re playing baseball together, they’re not fucking in front of us./

Stiglitz took a long drag on his cigarette before answering. /Make sure we mention baseball to Donowitz every night./

 


End file.
